


no more dreaming like a ghost

by callunavulgari



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Kingdom Hearts III
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 07:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20239087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: “Please,” Roxas says.He is in the kitchen, the stove top still warm under his thighs, and everything smells of cherries. The pie is cooling on the windowsill, the sun slanting in warm and buttery, and it is like a dream. A memory. A wish.“Please, what?” Axel asks, half teasing, pulling the oven mitts from his fingers as he turns.





	no more dreaming like a ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [glorious piece of writing by azra t](https://5000letters.tumblr.com/post/113465829137/in-this-dream-we-are-baking-cherry-pies-we-are). I've wanted to write something based on it for a while and I've also wanted to write a sticky-sweet happy ending for the boys since I finished Kingdom Hearts 3, so today those two converged. Title is from a misheard Florence & the Machine lyric that I thought fit.
> 
> Happy Akuroku Day, guys.

“Please,” Roxas says.

He is in the kitchen, the stove top still warm under his thighs, and everything smells of cherries. The pie is cooling on the windowsill, the sun slanting in warm and buttery, and it is like a dream. A memory. A wish.

“Please, what?” Axel asks, half teasing, pulling the oven mitts from his fingers as he turns.

Roxas doesn’t know what he wants, but he likes it when Axel looks at him. He holds his arms out, wordless, and Axel comes to him. He always does.

They were strange in the days after the end, when the skin pulled tight across Roxas’s bones was still new, when they didn’t trust it to last. They danced around each other, not quite touching, not daring to hope.

They talked a lot, shoulder to shoulder and spread out across the white sand, watching the tide come in day after day. Axel burned in the sun, and Roxas wanted to touch his red, peeling skin like it was precious. He would take a bite of fruit and the juice would spill down his chin, and Roxas would dream about brushing it away with his thumb. His eyelashes would flicker, and Roxas would think of kissing them.

It took two weeks for Axel to touch him.

Little touches - hesitant, fleeting - like Axel was trying to remind himself that he was there. Then bolder- a hand at his hip, a palm flat against the curve of his spine, the whisper of a touch at his jawline.

Kisses came later. The surf churning around their legs, shading his eyes from the sun as Axel grinned down at him.

“Please,” he had said then, and Axel had looked at him, red across the bridge of his nose, the beginnings of freckles on his cheeks, and asked, “Please, what?”

“Touch me.”

A word. A breath.

And Axel had, one hand on his jaw, the other pressed to the base of his spine.

They'd never kissed before, so Roxas hadn't been prepared for how loud the thumping of his heart would be, how much it felt like it might beat right out of his chest. Waves gently lapping at the backs of their knees and Axel's mouth on his, after so long of wanting - it felt like something impossible. Something that made his stomach flip and _soar_.

When Axel kisses him now, it’s familiar. The glide of Axel’s mouth on his is soft, practiced, but good. Roxas sighs into it, and he can feel Axel smile against his mouth before his hand slides into Roxas’s hair. He takes the kiss deeper, and Roxas makes a quiet noise, helpless and wanting, his legs coming up around Axel’s hips.

There’s music playing on the streets outside of their apartment, a melody as soft as a lullaby drifting in through the open window. 

Roxas lets his fingers tangle in Axel’s hair, pulls him in closer with his arms and his thighs, and wants him everywhere.

Touching is a luxury that he is still getting used to. _Wanting_ is a luxury that he’s still getting used to, and he’s taken every opportunity to acclimatize himself to the idea of it.

“Please,” Roxas asks again, and Axel gets his hands under Roxas’s thighs and lifts. He settles him down onto the wooden floor of their kitchen, his touch gentle, spreads him out there, gets his shirt off and his pants undone.

“Please, what?” he asks, the corner of his mouth twitching, eyes dark and sly.

“Touch me,” Roxas gasps, because he knows Axel likes it when he says it.

Axel takes him apart slowly. He kisses the bend of Roxas’s elbow, the shallow hollows of his clavicles and hips, the swell of his shoulders. He licks over his belly button, teasing, and sinks lower, his mouth worshipful as he finally takes Roxas into his mouth.

It’s a different kind of feast, gorging themselves on touching and being touched, a dance they’ve played for months now. Roxas doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to it.

They rock together to that sweet music, the smell of cherries all around them, the sun setting against their shoulder blades. They shudder apart in each other’s arms, and when it’s done, Roxas slides their hands together in the space between them.

Axel turns a smile on him, and Roxas thinks that he’s beautiful like this, hair come loose around his shoulders and pink with pleasure.

“Pie?” Axel asks him, once they've caught their breath. When Roxas smiles, he goes to get it off the windowsill. 

It’s cool enough to eat with their hands, so they do, feeding it to each other on the floor of their kitchen, laughing when the cherry filling spills between their fingers and drips onto their chests. Axel sucks his fingers clean and when they kiss again, it is sticky and so, so sweet.


End file.
